


Those Bloody Jarveys

by LeanaM



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fred didn't die in the final battle, fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeanaM/pseuds/LeanaM
Summary: Ginny Weasley made a mistake. A silly, spiteful prank turned her life upside down, and she exiled herself from her family, surrounded by cussing Jarveys, living in a shabby hut on the abandoned Malfoy estate. But it can't be quite as easy as that, can it?





	Those Bloody Jarveys

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Once_Upon_a_Parchment](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Once_Upon_a_Parchment) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> The Six Swans - six swans are turned into swans by a witch. They can only take their human form for fifteen minutes every evening. To free them, their sister must make six shirts out of nettles and can't make a sound for seven years or the spell will never be broken.
> 
> Suggested characters: Weasley siblings
> 
>  
> 
> All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
> 
> Thank you to my beta for their time and work on this story.

_Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a young princess. She had six older brothers and a father and mother who doted on her. Their little country wasn’t very rich, but it had withstood war and destruction, and the family was happy they were facing more prosperous times._

_But then disaster came again. The wicked witch of the neighbouring country hexed the six brothers and turned them into swans._

 

**15 August 1998**

Oh, who am I kidding? If only they had turned into swans… but I can’t do this. I could lie to everyone else, but I will not lie to myself. I can’t pretend this is something that happened to someone else a long time ago. This is no fairy tale. This is my life. And what happened was entirely my fault.

I never thought I’d keep a diary again, but I have no other choice. I can’t stay with my family, not if I want to make this work. I can’t explain to anyone what I’m doing, even. So I write everything down. At least I know exactly what charms this one has put on it. I’m the only one who can open and read it. If I can’t utter a sound for twelve full moons, then at least I’ll be able to share my thoughts here before hearing my own voice in my head makes me go insane. I know I have to pay the price for my idiocy, but if I lose my mind doing so, who is going to save them?

 

* * *

 

**17 August 1998**

A year of silence. Sweet Morgana, two days has already driven me spare. No humming, no laughing, no shrieks can pass my lips while I prepare the potion that will turn them back. I gathered the hellebore plants and started preparing them to dry. Of course the twins would develop a potion that needs all sorts of highly dangerous and blacklisted ingredients. 

It’s a good thing the Malfoys have such a well-stocked potions garden. The bubotuber pus needs to be collected at the full moon for six months. I’m not looking forward to that, but I’ll bear it willingly.

I wish I could just go to the apothecary but if I use my magic they will find me. And I don’t want them to find me. I can’t face Mum and Dad again. The disappointment in their faces, the hurt… I can’t bear it. Oh, sweet Morgana, what have I done?

 

* * *

 

**21 August 1998**

They found me. I can’t believe they found me, here of all places! I was sure I’d be safe. But I guess it’s not a bad thing. The instructions do say I need to feed them the potion at the full moon, so it’s better for them to know where I am. But, sweet Merlin, having six Jarveys around is a bit much. They swear like… well, like Jarveys, I suppose. No wonder Mum had enough and let them go.

I suppose they seem happy enough. They have retained some of their human awareness, because even though they only speak in the vilest insults, they sometimes nudge my legs, like cats, as if to comfort me. I try not to show them that it is all too much. And I need to keep going. The potion must be ready for the bubotuber pus in little over two weeks, and I have so much more to do. I wish the hellebore would dry quicker.

 

* * *

 

**1 September 1998**

I wonder if they opened Hogwarts today. I was too upset to even think about it. I know Hermione thought about going back, but I have no idea what Harry will do now Ron isn’t around. One of the Jarveys seemed angry around me and tried to bite my toes, but the others stopped him. I guess that one is Ron. I haven’t seen them change yet so I can’t be sure.

 

* * *

 

**8 September 1998**

Full moon tonight. As the twins’ notes said, they changed into their human form for about fifteen minutes after sunset. It was such a shock to see them. I couldn’t move, I just stared at them and burst into tears. Then Bill came up to me and hugged me tight.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We don’t blame you.”

Charlie hugged me too and handed me a tissue. “We’re not angry at all, Ginny. And Mum will get over it, I promise. She’ll just have to get used to the swearing. It’s not like she can wash our mouths with soap now.”

I tried to find comfort in their words, but I was overwhelmed by doubts and guilt. Will Mum ever forgive me? Will Dad? How is not uttering a sound for twelve full moons going to save my brothers from the curse I put upon them? But I have to believe it will work. The twins’ notes have been correct so far. And it seems like the Healers at St. Mungo’s can’t find any other solution, so this is all the hope we have left.

Percy didn’t seem too impressed with me, though. He’s always been kind to me, even in the darkest days of my life, but now he looked at me with such disapproval I almost imagined Mum standing in front of me. “You should move back home,” he said, his voice unusually grave and his hands fidgeting with the glasses that slipped down his nose. “Mum and Dad are worried about you. You shouldn’t have run away.”

I bowed my head in shame at his words, unable to meet his gaze. I ran away like a coward because I couldn’t face my mother’s disapproving stares, nor my father’s disappointed sighs. But Bill’s hand on my shoulder squeezed comfortingly.

“Oh, come off it, Perce. She’d never be able to keep quiet for a whole year at home,” Fred said. He grinned at me when I looked up at him. “Not really the best timing, sister dear, but it undoubtedly is a good joke,” he continued, with a wink.

George slung an arm around his shoulders. “Of course it was a good joke, we thought of it, didn’t we? And we know the counter-potion we devised will work. Shame you didn’t wait till we’d created one, Gin. But just keep at it, you’re doing great.”

And for the first time in almost a month, I could see the funny side of it. My six brothers turned into Jarveys… Me, confined to solitary silence for a year, preparing a potion the complexity of which exceeded even NEWT level, and the incessant swearing that surrounded me. I could feel a smile trembling on my lips, but then Ron exploded and ruined it all. I’d almost forgotten about him, but his temper can’t be disregarded.

“You oafs make a joke out of everything!” he shouted, turning an ugly shade of brick red. “This is no fucking joke. I don’t enjoy being turned into a Jarvey for most of the month. Everyone’s off to Hogwarts or starting their future careers and I’m not with them! How can you laugh when our life is ruined? We finally defeated Voldemort and his Death Eaters and now this?”

He would have said more, but their fifteen minutes were up, and he changed into a Jarvey again, swearing loudly. The others screeched back at him, equally angry, and I ran into my hut, away from the noise, away from the evidence of my spiteful joke gone wrong. I lay on my bed, hands over my ears, crying again, as I have done so often these past days. I do regret it. I do. But what good is regret? It doesn’t change the act. It doesn’t change the curse or the consequences. I still need to suffer in silence for another year. I can’t even apologise now. What else can I do? But I need to stop writing and use this night to collect the first batch of bubotuber pus. I just had to get this off my chest first.

 

* * *

 

**19 September 1998**

My hands have finally healed. I should have thought about making some kind of soothing paste to counteract the effect of pure bubotuber pus on the skin. My hands still tingle and hurt but at least my skin is less raw now, and I can hold my quill to write. I’ve missed writing.

One of the Jarveys has disappeared. I think it’s Ron. He’s still too angry with me. And Percy scolds so gently that I know he’s trying to make me go back home. But I can’t. The solitude is my penance, as much as the bubotuber’s burn.

 

* * *

 

**25 September 1998**

I dreamed about it last night. I saw myself picking up that untested potion from Fred and George’s room, as if I were outside my own body, and I yelled at myself to stop, but I didn’t listen. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and stop myself. Silly, childish spite.

The worst moment, though, was when I hesitated. I almost didn’t pour the potion into their lemonade. If only I had stopped myself then, I wouldn’t be in this situation now. But it was just a prank, a prank gone horribly wrong.

But no use crying over spilt potions. It is what it is.

 

* * *

 

**5 October 1998**

Another full moon. Bill and Charlie were kind to me, Percy grumbled and the twins were proud of my progress. It was so nice to see them all again. Although... I forget how lonely I am when I have five Jarveys surrounding me, but when they are here, as my brothers, it’s like I suddenly remember what I’m missing, and I want nothing more than to return home, to my family, to a life where none of this happened.

But I can’t.

The first stage of brewing is almost done now. I just need to collect some more bubotuber pus. It almost seems like my hands have just healed, and I have to go through the same agony again. But I know I have to keep going. No one else will.

 

* * *

 

**15 October 1998**

Draco Malfoy found me today. He didn’t recognise me, I think. The glamours that hide the tell-tale colour of my hair and eyes are doing their work. I could pass for anyone now. He seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see him. I thought he’d be in Azkaban for another few months, but apparently they let him go early.

I wanted to flee, but something in his face made me pause. He didn’t look like the arrogant little bag of hippogriff manure I used to know. He was thin and pale, paler than ever, with dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days.

I turned away from him, but before I had even reached the edge of the garden, he spoke.

“Don’t go.”

And for some reason, I didn’t. I still don’t quite understand. I think, looking back now, I just craved the company. After spending months surrounded by Jarveys, I wanted some human contact. And he didn’t look half as threatening as he once had, more fragile and desperate than anything else. And I had been alone for so long.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? This is my land.”

I just shrugged. It’s not like I could tell him, then my two long months of silence would have been for nothing. I put my finger to my lips and shook my head, trying to tell him I couldn’t speak, and he seemed to understand. The git had always been quick-witted.

“You can’t say your name? Or is it that you cannot speak at all?”

I nodded at the second suggestion.

He sighed and seemed to slump. “My name is Draco Malfoy. You are on Malfoy property, surely you know that?”

I nodded. There was no point in denying it. I’d come here because Malfoy Manor was well known to have the best potions garden outside of the Hogwarts greenhouses, and I couldn’t go to Scotland. The chance of being discovered would be too great. I’d expected the Manor to remain empty for at least a year, though. But I had run off before the end of the Malfoy trials.

He seemed to study me, as if trying to understand why I wasn’t afraid, and he’d just sat down on a boulder when something about him began to buzz. He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm and looked at the bracelet clasping his wrist, his lips curled in distaste.

“I need to go. May I… May I come back to talk to you?”

His face was so hopeful I couldn’t refuse. No, I said I wouldn’t lie in this diary. I didn’t refuse because I wanted him to return. His sudden presence had fired up a longing I had tried to ignore for weeks. I wanted to know what was happening out there. And now he had found me, he was my only hope to get any information.

 

* * *

 

**17 October 1998**

Malfoy came back today. He even brought food. I didn’t want to touch it at first, I still don’t trust him. But he ate and drank everything he offered me, and when the scent of roast chicken reached my nostrils, my mouth watered and I knew I wouldn’t resist.

I’d grown quite used to what little I could forage from the woods, but this… This was different.

He didn’t say much, just some inane comments about the weather and the food. Then the bracelet on his arm buzzed again, and he was gone.

It was nice to have company, even if it was Draco Malfoy. And that roast chicken… Dear Godric, that was to die for.

 

* * *

 

**19 October 1998**

He didn’t come back today or yesterday. I hate to admit it, but I was looking forward to it. It’s just nice to see someone that reminds me of the life I left behind. I’m sorry it has to be him, but still.

 

* * *

 

**25 October 1998**

Today he came back, carrying another basket of freshly cooked food. Roast beef this time. It reminded me of Mum’s cooking and I just couldn’t help crying. I miss her. I really do.

I was so embarrassed that Malfoy saw me cry, but he didn’t seem fazed. He just held my hand, while I tried to stop the tears, and handed me a freshly pressed, pristine, white hanky. Of course he’s the kind of guy who always carries a fresh handkerchief in his pocket.

We didn’t even have time to eat much before his bracelet buzzed and called him away again. I gestured at it, doing my best impression of a questioning face.

“I’ll explain next time,” he said, and then he was gone.

He left the basket with food, though. There was even some hot chocolate. Dear Godric, how I miss hot chocolate.

The Jarveys fought over the roast beef. There was something so familiar about their antics, I almost could see my brothers in them, fighting over who gets the last slice of Mum’s meatloaf at dinner.

Malfoy hasn’t seen them yet. They hide in my hut whenever they hear him approach. Sometimes I think I can hear their disapproving hissed and murmured insults carried over by the wind, but surely that must be my imagination.

 

* * *

 

**28 October 1998**

So apparently Malfoy is under house arrest. He has to wear a bracelet that monitors his location and sends an alarm to the Aurors when he leaves the house without permission.

“I’m not a good person, Mystery Girl,” he said to me. “I did terrible things. I’ve seen the face of evil. But I survived that horror. And the Dark Lord is gone. I can suffer the humiliation and indignity of having to explain my every move to angry Aurors, as long as I remember that he is never coming back. Thank Salazar Potter managed to defeat him.”

He should have an hour each day in which he can go out in the gardens, but he has to ask every single time, and sometimes they pretend they can’t find anyone senior enough to sign the required forms. 

I can’t believe Harry would stand for that, or Kingsley, even. I thought they were better than that. But then, I don’t know if Harry joined the Aurors after all, nor if Kingsley is still in charge at the Ministry. It can all change in a heartbeat, after all. I wish I could ask, about Harry, about Hermione, about my parents. But I know I can’t. He’s a git, but a bloody clever one. He’d figure out who I am faster than you can say Quidditch.

The basket he left behind fills up with fresh food every day. At least I won’t be as hungry as I once was.

 

* * *

 

**4 November 1998**

The potion is progressing well, but since I can’t use magic it’s taking a lot longer than it should.

They changed back tonight. Fred and George ribbed me about buttering up to Malfoy, but when I pointed out they, too, enjoyed the perks of his visits by eating the food he left me, they quickly let go.

Bill and Charlie just ran around the clearing as fast as they could, yelling and howling like idiots. They miss their human bodies.

Percy sat at my table and went over my notes, adding a comment here and there, just like he used to do when I asked his help with my History of Magic essays. He didn’t say much but he looked less angry.

Fifteen minutes go by so fast.

I was right, though. Ron left.

Time to collect some more bubotuber pus.

 

* * *

  

**9 November 1998**

My fingers are numb with cold and it is hard to write. The fire that keeps the cauldron going is hardly enough to heat up the potion, let alone this shabby hut.

It didn’t take quite as long for my fingers to heal this time, though. Maybe I’m getting inured.

Sweet Merlin, at least three more months of this cold, and worse. It’s only November. How am I going to get through this?

I haven’t seen Malfoy in almost two weeks now. I wonder if he’s okay.

The incessant insults are starting to get on my nerves.

 

* * *

 

**15 November 1998**

Malfoy came into the hut today. I hadn’t ever invited him in before. He cast a warming charm as soon as he came in, and it almost made me gasp. It felt like I hadn’t been warm since August, and every single part of my body began to tingle painfully, as if hundreds of needles pricked through my skin at the same time.

I was prepared for some disdainful remark or other, but he only raised his eyebrow once when he looked around the hut, and that was when his eye fell on the Jarveys, who were nestled around the fire under the cauldron.

Bill lifted his head and said, with a hiss, “Pribbling strumpet,” but he didn’t bother getting up. It was just too cold.

“You keep Jarveys?” The disdain in his tone was obvious, but I also think there was some curiosity. I nodded and shrugged.

“Four of them?” I blinked in confusion and looked at the heap of fur and paws and snouts. Then I remembered Percy had a habit of burrowing in my bed, so I just held up five fingers.

“Why?” He sounded utterly bewildered. I just shrugged again. Too complicated to mimic.

He looked like he wanted to ask more, but then he just shook his head and went over to the cauldron. Charlie snapped at his toes when he came too close, and he jumped back with an oath. I could see Fred and George grin mischievously as they slithered out of their warm tangle and began to dance around Malfoy’s feet. He jumped up and down in a parody of a jig and I had to press my lips together to stop myself from laughing. Merlin, I hadn’t felt the urge to laugh since all this happened. But I put a stop to it before any accidents could happen. I grabbed them both by their scruffs, shook them a little and tossed them on my bed, a warning finger at the cauldron. Imagine if they’d made Malfoy fall against it, then all the work of the past months would be for nothing. They hung their heads and one of them muttered something like, “Stupid rotten turnip head,” but it sounded like an apology.

“I’m sorry I’ve been absent,” he said, after a long silence. “There were more trials I had to attend.”

I tried the questioning look again, and he responded, though with obvious reluctance. “My father. He was sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban.”

I tried to hide my glee. It was better than he deserved, but to know Lucius Malfoy was finally facing the consequences of his actions was too satisfying. I had never forgotten his involvement in that diary mess he got me in during first year. I didn’t quite succeed, though.

“You don’t have to pretend, Mystery Girl. He did awful things, probably to your family too, and he should be punished for that.” He paused, then sighed. “But he’s still my father. He’s still the man who taught me how to fly and play chess.”

I saw the confusion and pain in his eyes. He tried to hide it, but I had seen it. So I just reached out and took his hand, squeezing it for good measure.

He smiled a little, then seemed to blush and look away. His eyes fell on the cauldron again.

“What are you brewing?”

I panicked. I didn’t want him to know. I couldn’t explain. It would ruin the whole process if I did. And I had no idea how to tell him that. But my face must have shown my thoughts, because he frowned, then said, “You can’t tell me?”

I shook my head so frantically I almost sprained my neck. But then he squeezed my hand and reassured me he wouldn’t ask again.

“You can’t stay here, Mystery Girl. Winter is just around the corner, it will only get colder. Surely you can go somewhere else? The War is over, you know. Whichever side you were on, it’s over. Can’t you go home?”

I spread my arms wide and turned slowly to indicate this was now my home. I didn’t want to think of the Burrow. The cozy Burrow with its many nooks and crannies, the creaking stairs and the scent of Mum’s cooking in the air.

“But how can you survive in this cold?”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to think about that, either. My brothers depend on me. I have to make it work.

He was quiet for a long time. When his bracelet began to buzz, he took my hand again.

“Come with me. The Manor is too large for me alone, there’s plenty of space for you. A warm house, with running water and three meals a day. Can you really resist?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to go to the Manor. I knew what had happened there.

“Please. It’s nearly December. My parents are both gone. I don’t want to be alone during the darkest season.”

His bracelet buzzed again, and something near to desperation flashed through his face.

I gestured at the cauldron and the Jarveys and my collection of ingredients, so meticulously prepared over the past months. I couldn’t leave any of it behind.

“We can take the cauldron and the ingredients, of course. I have a potions lab, it will be easier for you to work on your potion there.”

I pointed at the Jarveys again.

“No. I’m not taking those overgrown ferrets in.”

I crossed my arms and went to sit down on my bed. Fred and George immediately climbed on my lap, and Percy poked his nose from under the blankets.

“You dim-witted bull’s pizzle,” Fred said.

“Scurvy Chizpurfle,” George added.

I had to clasp my hands over my face to hide the amusement, and when I chanced a glance at Malfoy, I noticed his lips were trembling with the effort to stop his smile.

He gave in, of course.

His house-elves moved the cauldron and ingredients, and now I’m here, in Malfoy Manor. It’s nothing like what I imagined from Ron and Harry’s tales. The house is gigantic but Malfoy seems to live in only one small part of it. I think he’s avoiding the parts where Voldemort lived. Still, though the temperature is higher than my little hut in the woods, there is a coldness about this building that still makes me shiver. The memories of torture and death seem to linger in the walls. Maybe that’s just my imagination though.

He gave me a very nice room. It was a little gloomy when we first entered, but a moment later, a fire was blazing in the grate and now it’s warm and cozy.

The boys are nestled in front of the flames, muttering insults in a sleepy tone. I think they’re happy to be out of that little hole.

I have an ensuite, too. I spent two hours in the bathtub, just enjoying the hot water and the bubbles. I can’t imagine what I must have looked like to Malfoy, with only some rain water to wash my face occasionally and not even a change of clothes. And still he came back. He must have been very lonely indeed.

When I got out and saw myself in the mirror, I could hardly recognise the girl staring back at me. Three months in the woods have changed me. My face is sharper, thinner, even under the glamours. My freckles seem to have disappeared and my hair, of course, is dark brown rather than red. It struck me for the first time that I am no longer Ginny Weasley. That hurts, and yet it’s comforting at the same time.

He’s given me a wardrobe full of clothes, too. I think they must have been his mother’s, unless he likes to dress up as a woman. Who knows what he’s been doing with himself these past months? I wonder if I’m expected to dress for dinner, or if a simple frock will do. That frilly lace is so itchy.

I need to go. The dinner gong sounded. Of course he has a dinner gong. Pompous arse.

 

* * *

 

Malfoy isn’t at all what I expected of him. He’s a master at keeping up the flow of conversation all on his own. He grumbles about Harry and Hermione, but seems pleased nonetheless that they managed to kill Voldemort.

He talked all through dinner and all through the evening, about everything and nothing. He’s changed. He doesn’t sneer, he doesn’t act all superior. He’s still arrogant, but it’s different. It’s the arrogance of someone who has seen some of the worst things in life and has survived. It’s the arrogance of someone who isn’t about to give up.

Of course, he hasn’t mentioned my parents, and who knows how he’d react to me if he knew who I was.

 

* * *

  

**21 November 1998**

He sat with me today while I was working on the potion. He never asked about it, probably because he knows I won’t explain. I can see he’s curious, though.

He only interrupted me once, while I was chopping the dried flobberworm. He adjusted my hold on the knife and showed me how to chop them fine without cutting my own fingers. I could feel his warmth along my back. I’m sure I only noticed because this is about as close to a hug I’ve come in a while.

He read to me while I was working, a Muggle novel called Pride and Prejudice. I’m not sure where he got it from. It was soothing to work with his voice in the background. He reads well.

 

* * *

 

**1 December 1998**

I’ve come to look forward to working on that godforsaken potion with Draco reading to me. He calls me Aurea now, because he says the firelight shows the golden highlights in my eyes and hair. I like it.

Aurea.

New name. New life.

 

* * *

 

**3 December 1998**

My brothers are idiots. Absolute idiots. They turn into humans for fifteen minutes once every month, and what do they do? Help me with the potion that will give them their life back? Give me a hug? No, of course not. They jumped over and across each other, tossing their clothes as fast as they could, to splash around in the bathtub. Granted, it’s more than big enough for two, but five grown men trying to enjoy a bath all at the same time because they only have such a short window? No, that didn’t work. Of course, by the time they were more or less settled they turned into Jarveys again, and I was left with five angry hissing animals that looked like overgrown, drowned ferrets, jabbering nonsensical insults at each other and splashing water all over the room.

They’re lucky I love them, or I wouldn’t be going back for more bubotuber pus.

I don’t know how I’ll hide my burns from Draco. He’ll want to heal them but I have to be strong and refuse. This shouldn’t be too easy. I’m already living in the lap of luxury while trying to do penance for my mistake.

 

* * *

 

**15 December 1998**

Can two people have a row if one of them can’t speak?

Damn Malfoy. As soon as he saw my hands that morning after the full moon, he spluttered and cursed and almost dragged me to the potions lab, digging out salves and pastes and putting them on display for me. I refused them, of course, and he kept insisting, and in the end he started yelling at me and…

I admit, I was scared. For the first time in my life, I was actually afraid of Draco Malfoy. He’d never seemed threatening to me before, but somehow it never occurred to me that I can’t actually defend myself. No wand, no voice.

He stormed off and he hasn’t said a word to me since. I’ve started taking my meals in my room. It’s one thing to be alone, it’s quite another to be alone in someone else’s company.

I miss his voice.

 

* * *

 

**16 December 1998**

He apologised today. Said something about not knowing how to handle seeing other people suffer and not help if he can. I shrugged it off. I can’t explain why I need to feel the pain, why I need to suffer.

He read to me again, and we had dinner together.

I realised it’s almost Christmas. Draco doesn’t seem to be in a celebratory mood, though. I don’t think he expects me to bring the holiday cheer into the house, he just didn’t want to be alone. I can understand that. I don’t want to be alone either.

 

* * *

 

**25 December 1998**

He gave me a Christmas present, a lovely golden necklace with an amber pendant. I didn’t have anything for him and felt so embarrassed but he didn’t seem like he expected anything. Still, I should think of something, some way to show him that I appreciate what he does for me.

 

* * *

 

**26 December 1998**

I chased the house-elves out of the kitchen this morning and baked him some biscuits. It was the only thing I could think of that didn’t involve magic or speech. His eyes were such bright silver when he realised I’d made them myself, his mouth turning into a soft smile... I just couldn’t look away from him. He looked so much younger, all of a sudden, so much more relaxed.

I want to see him smile like that more often.

 

* * *

 

**2 January 1999**

I think they’re at the Burrow tonight. They’ve been gone since shortly after Christmas.

Two more full moons and I can start feeding them the potion.

 

* * *

  

**6 January 1999**

Draco is acting strange around me. He seems to stare at me when he thinks I’m not paying him any attention, but he looks away when I try to catch his eye. He’s getting less talkative, but when he realises he’s being too quiet, he suddenly starts chattering inanely.

It’s annoying. Maybe I should go back to my hut for a few days. Maybe we’ve spent too much time together and he no longer wants me here.

 

* * *

  

**10 January 1999**

I was wrong. He didn’t want me to go. He showed up in the clearing three days after I had gone, his face as stony as I had ever seen it. For a moment, he reminded me of the Hogwarts bully I’d known so well.

When he saw me, his mask shattered and he just stood there, staring at me as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Maybe I should have turned away, but I didn’t. I hadn’t realised until then how much I’d missed him.

“Here you are.” He said it so quietly I almost thought I’d imagined it. But then he strode up to me, cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.

I hadn’t expected that. I also hadn’t expected the fire that ran through my whole body the moment his mouth touched mine. I hadn’t expected the goosebumps that erupted all over my skin when his fingers caressed my cheeks.

He stood there for a long time, holding me close, peppering soft kisses over my face and neck.

“Never leave me again. Please don’t ever leave me again.”

And when I shook my head and wrapped my arms around him, I knew I never would.

Oh hell.

I’m in love with Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy is in love with Ginevra Weasley.

But no. He’s in love with Aurea. Not Ginny. But I don’t know which of the two I am now.

 

* * *

 

**15 January 1999**

Five months exactly since I started this journal. Five months of complete silence. I thought it would have been five months of solitude, but this self-imposed exile seems to have brought to brightest and purest of loves into my life.

I don’t deserve him.

I know I should put a stop to this before it goes too far. A relationship built on secrets and lies can never work. 

And yet I can’t turn away.

His kisses leave me breathless. His hugs give me life. When he looks at me, I feel like the most amazing woman on earth. There is no judgement in his eyes, even though he asks me all these questions I cannot answer or I might give myself away.

Oh Draco, will you hate me when you find out who I really am?

 

* * *

 

**31 January 1999**

They came back today. It’s been almost a month. There were six of them, so Ron came back too. They arrived long after sunset, so I didn’t see them while they were human, but they seemed happy enough to see me, jumping all over me with gentle words of abuse.

Draco sighed when he noticed them scurrying through the hallway.

“I thought you’d gotten rid of them?”

I shook my head, smiling because Fred and George were trying to make him jig again. Then Ron jumped up with a loud curse and bit his toe. He was only wearing slippers so those sharp Jarvey teeth went quite deep.

I chased them off immediately, glaring and vowing to make him pay next time he’s human.

Draco didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry at their antics while he tried to heal his abused toe.

"Those bloody Jarveys hate me!"

I shook my head again and patted my heart, trying to keep a straight face.

“You think they do that because they like me?”

I nodded, still amused. He clearly wasn’t very hurt, though he was making quite the production of cleaning out the wound and wrapping it in yards and yards of bandages. You’d almost think he’d broken his foot.

“They never do that kind of thing to you, biting you and trying to trip you up.” He was grumbling, so I went up to him, pressed a kiss on his cheek. Then I made a heart shape with my hands, pointed at him, made the heart shape again and pointed at myself, shaking my head.

“You think they do it to me and not you because they like me better than you?”

I nodded enthusiastically, though he could see I was only having him on, he played along.

“Fine, but do you have to have five of them?”

I held up six fingers. 

“SIX? I thought they were all males?”

I shrugged.

He finished bandaging his foot and tugged me down into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and leaning his head on my shoulder.

“You’re lucky I love you so much that I’ll put up with those little devils.”

Well, what could I say to that?

 

One last bubotuber collection tonight. Next full moon, I give them the first portion of the antidote.

 

* * *

 

**10 February 1999**

Narcissa Malfoy has decided to return to Malfoy Manor. Draco received a letter this morning and we are expecting her tomorrow.

He told me not to worry, but how can I not? She knew what her husband tried to do in my first year. She supported his decisions, she allowed Voldemort into their house, she allowed Draco to become a Death Eater. I know her lie saved Harry in the end, but still. How do I know her ideas about blood purity and blood traitors have changed?

I will give her the benefit of the doubt, of course. I didn’t hold Draco’s past against him, and I’ve never made a better decision. And who am I to judge people for past mistakes? My brothers are Jarveys because of me, and I am still making amends. Maybe she is, too.

But what will she think of me, living in her home? Draco and I have been sleeping together for a while now, and I’ll be damned if she tries to get me to move back to my room. Let the boys stay there, they wreak too much havoc when we set them loose.

Ever since they caught Draco and me kissing, they’ve redoubled their efforts at trying to trip him up. I’ve had to threaten them with leashes and collars before they started to behave a little better.

We’ll see what happens. But I do think I’ll ask Draco to put up a Silencing charm around his room tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

**15 February 1999**

Narcissa Malfoy does not like me. She can make a decent pretense at civility when Draco is in the room, but when he is not, I can see her eyes narrowing and her mouth forming into a thin line of disapproval.

I could hear Draco argue with her in the library this afternoon. I didn’t try to eavesdrop, I was just sitting in the drawing room with a book. They didn’t even bother with a silencing charm. Although, knowing Draco, perhaps that was on purpose so I’d not be deceived by his mother’s behaviour towards me.

“A mute Muggle, Draco? You cannot be serious,” I heard her scream.

“She isn’t a Muggle. Muggles can’t find their way to our estate.”

“But what of her family, her heritage? You don’t even know which side of the War she was on. You don’t know if all she wants is the Malfoy fortune. How could you take her in without knowing anything about her?”

“I know all I need to know.”

“Do you? Why is she making that foul-smelling potion? Why does she not speak? Can she even perform a simple Lumos?”

When he didn’t say anything, she said something so vile I had to stop myself from running into the room and slapping her.

“If it’s just her body you want, Draco, I quite understand, but there’s no need to keep her in the best bedroom and dress her in the best robes.”

I didn’t have to run in to slap her, because he did it for me. The sound of skin on skin and the deep, heavy silence that followed seemed to fill the whole house.

“You will never speak of her that way again,” Draco said, and the threat in his voice made even me shiver. “She makes me happy, and that is all I care about.”

He stalked into the drawing room, pulled me up from my seat and kissed me so fiercely I could barely remain standing, and a moment later he had Apparated us to our bedroom.

I hope his mother makes him angry more often. The sex was absolutely incredible.

 

* * *

 

**20 February 1999**

Narcissa and I have found a way to live in the same house without annoying each other. She sticks to the orangerie and the gardens, which she loves to tend to, and I keep to the potions lab and, of course, the bedroom I share with Draco. We ignore each other at mealtimes. It works just fine.

I know Draco is a little frustrated, but he never pressures me into spending more time with her. I think he’s only allowing her to stay because his father’s health is deteriorating and she can visit Azkaban more often from Malfoy Manor than from France.

I know he stands with me against her, because he never allows her snide remarks to pass without rebuttal and he shows his affection and support for me in every way, from holding my hand to giving me little gifts unexpectedly. I know he partly does it to annoy his mother, but I can see in his eyes that my pleasure is what counts the most.

 

* * *

  

**3 March 1999**

Oh Merlin, I’d forgotten what babies my brothers can be when they have to take a potion! How Mum managed that all those years I will never know. They have to take it while they are human but from the way they hummed and hawed and tried to get out of it, you’d think they had hours and hours instead of a mere fifteen minutes.

And that was yesterday.

Today, as if to take revenge for having to swallow that horrid potion, they escaped my room and got into Narcissa’s. They ransacked her bed and wardrobe and tore the carpet to pieces. The house-elves started crying when they saw the damage and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Narcissa so angry.

Draco scolded them soundly and locked them into the room. He put a spell on the door so only he and I can open it. But I saw him sneak into the room with a suspiciously large basket later, and when I went in to say goodnight, I noticed they were all lying lazily in front of the fire, their tummies very full and round.

I think Draco actually likes them.

 

* * *

  

**11 March 1999**

I think the boys actually like Draco, too. They’ve stopped trying to trip him up but they continue to annoy Narcissa.

She really hates me. Yesterday she caught me alone in the corridor, and there was a gleam in her eyes I didn’t really like.

“My son may have accepted that you won’t talk, young lady, but I will not. And I know a good few ways to loosen your tongue.”

She was about to let her wand slip from her sleeve, but then we both heard Draco’s footsteps and a moment later she was gone.

I’ll have to be careful around her.

 

* * *

  

**25 March 1999**

He gave me a ring today.

I was sitting in the drawing room, playing with Fred and George, when he came up to me and settled at my feet, taking one of my hands in his to catch my attention. 

“I know you can’t speak,” he said, “but I think you once could?” I nodded. “And maybe one day you will speak again?” I nodded again. He stared at me so intently that I began to shift uncomfortably in my seat. 

“I love you, with all my heart, my darling Mystery Girl,” he then said, with that little smile on his lips that always manages to melt my heart. “Do you think one day you could love me enough to become my wife?”

My mouth fell open and I just stared at him in surprise. It was only when the long silence seemed to make him uncomfortable that I realised I hadn’t responded yet. So I slowly shook my head. He began to draw away but I tightened my hands on his to stop him and kneeled down before him. How can he not know I already love him so much more than that? So I placed both his hands over my heart and tried to explain that I already did.

His smile, when he finally understood, was brighter than the sun.

“Will you accept this ring as a token of my love and loyalty?”

He brought out a ring with a solitary diamond, surrounded by tiny emeralds. “I want us to be able to have a true magical marriage,” he told me. “So I want us to wait until you can make your vows vocally. We can have the wedding later. But I’d like to be able to tell the world that you are mine, and I am yours.”

I accepted, of course.

 

* * *

 

**26 March 1999**

Narcissa choked on her soup when she saw the ring on my finger. She didn’t say anything, though. She must have seen the challenging glint in Draco’s eyes as clearly as I did.

I love my husband to be.

 

* * *

  

**1 April 1999**

They made less of a production of the second dose of antidote. It’s not like it’s my fault the thing smells and tastes terrible, the twins were the ones who developed this one, not I.

Four more full moons before I can speak again.

I already know what my first word will be. I cannot wait to say his name.

 

* * *

  

**2 May 1999**

One year since the Battle of Hogwarts.

I wish I could be with Mum and Dad today.

 

* * *

 

**6 May 1999**

 

Dear Godric, I think I’m pregnant.

 

* * *

  

**13 May 1999**

Draco found me puking my guts out this morning and, once I’d managed to explain to him what I thought the cause would be, he performed the spell.

I _am_ pregnant.

I’ve never felt so many conflicting feelings in one moment.

He doesn’t even know who I really am. How can he want me to be his child’s mother? And yet there is nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. I hope and pray that will never change.

 

* * *

  

**23 May 1999**

We had a discussion about the names today. Well, Draco made proposals and I responded with shrugs or horrified faces. He wants to keep to the Black tradition of constellation names, but some of them are just… I mean, who would call their child Aldebaran or Procyon? I think he was pulling my leg with that one. I hope he was.

We settled on Lyra or Carina for a girl, and Thuban or Scorpius for a boy. I would have liked Leo, too, but I think it would have betrayed my Gryffindor background, so I didn’t insist on it. Maybe when I have a voice again. If he still wants me then.

I have a feeling it will be a girl, though.

 

* * *

  

**30 May 1999**

Narcissa is acting strange. All of a sudden, she is all concern and care for me. She will bring me drinks - which I refuse to drink - or put my feet up on a stool or plump up the cushions behind my back. I don’t know what to think of it. Draco is a little suspicious, too, but he seems mostly relieved that she is no longer challenging him. And he’s worried about me. The pregnancy isn’t an easy one. I’m five weeks in and have to battle waves of nausea every time I smell food. I’m always tired and everything seems to hurt all the time.

I can’t believe my mother went through this six times. Why would anyone sign up for this more than once?

It’s also making it harder for me to work on the potion. I need to stir it twice every day, but the smell is just sickening.

And here I thought the burns of bubotuber pus would be the worst part of this penance.

My brothers seem unsure how to handle this development. They transformed earlier tonight. Ron just sighed.

“The Ferret, Ginny? Really?”

I nodded, decisively, and that seemed to shut all of them up. I do love him. And I will fight for him. The sooner they accept that, the better. But, sweet Morgana, I hope he’ll want me once he finds out the woman he knows as Aurea is really the daughter of a family he was brought up to despise.

 

* * *

 

**5 June 1999**

Narcissa spoiled him with a pile of presents taller than himself, but the only real smile I saw was when he looked at the cake I’d made for him.

She noticed it too. I could see her shoulders tense whenever it happened. She’s not happy at all.

 

* * *

  

**28 June 1999**

Draco caught me slipping into my bedroom with the potion for my brothers tonight. I had to beg him not to follow me in. I knew I didn’t have much time, and if they missed their potion it would set us back five months. He looked so hurt when I pushed him away. Oh Draco, my love, I can’t wait to explain. One more month and you’ll know everything. 

Bill noticed something was wrong.

“So do we need to annoy the Ferret or the Ice Queen?”

But I just shook my head, trying hard not to cry. Damn hormones. I’m just so tired of it all. This pregnancy is taking it out of me, I can’t explain to the man I love what is going on, and I don’t even know if he will love me once he knows who I really am.

I was so overwhelmed by all those thoughts that I burst into tears. They all hugged me, a real Weasley group hug, the kind we’d not had since early childhood, and murmured soothing words.

When they changed into Jarveys again, it really broke my heart.

One more month. At the next full moon, I’m giving them their final dose.

 

* * *

 

**29 June 1999**

I managed to make Draco understand that I need to feed my Jarveys that foul potion at the full moon, though I couldn’t explain why. I asked him for a little more patience, that it would soon all be clear.

He accepted that, but I can see he has questions.

 

* * *

 

**9 July 1999**

I can’t believe it. I’ve been arrested by the Aurors. I’m in a Ministry prison and awaiting trial. Narcissa has convinced them I’ve given Draco a Mind Control Potion.

I don’t know how she managed it, but these Aurors certainly believe her.

Draco protested vigorously but they didn’t listen to him, of course, if they believe him to be under the influence of a potion, they can’t actually take his objections into account.

She planned it all out perfectly. Damn that woman. 

They treat me well enough, a Healer visits regularly to check on my health and that of the baby. And Narcissa sometimes makes an appearance, pleading with me to stop my games and set her son free.

She knows how to put on a show.

I haven’t seen Draco, but from what I’ve heard from the Aurors, he’s been in St. Mungo’s to be tested for potions.

Those damned twins. Of course the antidote they developed would be a potion that uses asphodel and horklump, two ingredients that are well-known to feature in Mind Control Potions too.

Draco did manage to send me my diary, so at least I can write.

I’ve been here for almost a week now. The Aurors question me every day but my answers remain the same: silent shakes and nods of the head. It frustrates them, especially because the Healer told them that my vocal chords work just fine.

 

* * *

 

**14 July 1999**

I finally saw Draco today. He brought Fred and George with him. He doesn’t judge me, he doesn’t even ask me whether there is any truth to the accusations. He just sat with me, quietly, holding my hand. I’m sure he believes in my innocence, but it’s weighing on him. He looks as unhappy and tense as when I first saw him in the woods, except about a decade older.

I am sorry now that I ever let myself be tempted to live in the Manor. I could have saved him so much heartache and pain.

Oh, who am I kidding? I could never truly regret the love he brought into my life, the child that is growing inside me.

Two more weeks before the next full moon. I tried to explain to Draco that I needed all my Jarveys and the potion here, but he only looked at me blankly so I don’t know if he understood.

He had to take them back, too.

 

* * *

 

**19 July 1999**

Those idiots of the Wizengamot believe everything Narcissa tells them. My lawyer, Zabini, is making a great case and keeps repeating there is no evidence, but I can see their hearts are going out to the distraught mother who believes her son to be entranced by this strange girl, who even now still has him under her spell.

I don’t think I stand a chance.

 

* * *

 

**22 July 1999**

All is lost. I learned today that they confiscated the potion and had it analysed by a Potions Master. He identified a number of the ingredients as being often used in Mind Control Potions but had to admit he had no idea what this particular potion would do.

I hardly paid any attention to the rest of the proceedings. The potion is gone. My brothers will be Jarveys forever, only human for fifteen minutes on every full moon. I failed.

 

* * *

 

**27 July 1999**

Tomorrow I will be sent to Azkaban for ten years. I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was. I don’t even feel all that sorry for myself. But Draco’s face when they read my sentence… Oh dear Merlin, I will never forget that, not as long as I live, with or without my soul.

 

* * *

 

**29 July 1999**

This will be the last time I write in this diary. I no longer need it.

They were preparing to transport me to Azkaban. Draco was brought to my cell to have a last chance to say goodbye. I ran up to him and wrapped my arms around him, and the guards left us alone. Just as they were about to close the door, six Jarveys made their way into my cell.

And then Draco pushed a vial into my hands.

“I managed to save some of it before they took it all away,” he murmured in my ear. “I know you need to feed them this tonight.”

I didn’t even realise it was evening already, but the six Jarveys began to transform before my eyes. A moment later, my brothers were standing in the cell.

Draco stared at them, his mouth gaping, unable to utter another sound.

I pushed the vial into Bill’s hand and motioned for him to drink and pass it around.

“Ginny, what’s happening?”

“We’re here, just in time, it seems.”

“What the hell were you thinking, not speaking out? Don’t you think we’d have spent a lifetime as Jarveys rather than see you locked up?”

I wanted to hug each of them, but I knew I had something else to do first.

“Draco, I love you, and I hope you can forgive me.”

 My voice croaked, hoarse with the disuse of months.

 His mouth moved, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t move away, either, so I held on to him.

“Draco, the potion was the antidote to the transformation I accidentally put on my brothers. That’s all it was. I never gave you any potion. I’d never do that to you.”

He didn’t seem to have heard me. His eyes flicked between me and my brothers, who had fallen silent after their first surprise. First suspicious, then comprehending.

“Those bloody Jarveys, they were Weasleys all along?”

I nodded.

“Ginny Weasley.”

Oh, how I had longed to hear him say my name.

His fingers came up to my face, my hair, my lips, and he whispered the spell that would remove my glamour.

“Revelio.”

Wandless magic. I always knew he was a good wizard, but I didn’t know he was that powerful. I could feel the glamour dissolving, like silk that slid over my face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever happened now, the masks were off. I wasn’t sure I was ready to see him yet.

Then he said my name again.

“Ginny Weasley.”

I had to see him. 

I opened my eyes.

His mouth had curved into that little smile I had fallen in love with, his eyes overflowing with love and admiration, just like when we had first discovered I was pregnant.

I couldn’t breathe. 

He kissed my nose and rested his forehead against mine for just a moment, then he stepped back and said, with brisk authority in his voice, “I’ll get you out of here.”

And he did.

I don’t know who he went to talk to. I don’t know what he said. I don’t even have any idea how long he was gone. I was too happy to have my brothers back, to see them and hug them and talk to them. It didn’t take long before Dad was called down, and he, too, was overwhelmed when he saw all of us together, and he sent out a patronus to warn Mum.

How I had missed them, how much we had to talk about.

Mum and Dad insisted I come home with them, arguing with the guards who were reluctant to let me go until Narcissa was brought to the cell next to mine, screeching and fighting, and an order to release me had come from the Wizengamot. 

We were in the Atrium, all nine of us, finally together again and on our way to the Burrow, when my eye fell on Draco.

I don’t think I’ve ever known my Mum to be silent, but the sight of the him made her freeze.

Draco held out his hand to me. “Won’t you come home with me?” I could see the insecurity, the plea in his eyes. Of course I said yes. 

And this is where I end this. Whatever happens next in our lives, I think I should use another diary to record it. This chapter is now done and it’s time to turn over a new leaf.

 


End file.
